Savage Fugitive

by Patrick G Cox

  “Then I have some good news for you. While you were engaged in your planning, I monitored a message to the Consortium fleet. Rest easy, our ships are now alert to the danger they face.”

  Chapter 27 — Stir the Hornet’s Nest

  Rear-Admiral Heron studied the intel report. To his Flag Lieutenant, he said, “Contact all Captains — holo-conference in half an hour. This intel changes the situation. I’ll want to run a series of simulations to determine the best dispositions against what we now know they have waiting for us. HQ say they’re concerned about the source — they suspect a ruse because there’s conflicting intel from other sources.”

  “Yes, sir.” The Lieutenant enjoyed working with his Admiral. His respect had deepened for the way his superior worked closely with his team yet never surrendered his position as leader. “Shall I set up the Flag Command Room for a Captain’s exercise?”

  “Not yet.” The Admiral paused to consider. “We’re still five days from dropout. Get me a team of our own people — Lieutenants and Mids — and let them run some battle sims with our ships and the Consortium’s. Let’s see what shakes out of that. Here is the deployment to use for the enemy, and if you come back in ten minutes, I’ll give you my deployment for the exercise.”

  The Flag Lieutenant grinned. “Who do you want in command of each side?”

  “Hmm. Their commander is Leandra Enescu. I was at College in the same year as her, and she was a weapons specialist. Let’s fly a kite here — Commander Polzanov from Weapons Branch can lead the Consortium Team. Get Captain Grenville to take the lead for the home team. Once we’ve tried out some sims with our own people running them, I’ll get a Captains team in, and we can try it again with everyone fighting their own ships in the sim.” He stared at the signal on his tablet again, noting the phrases and words used, and the sender of the message. “The Ancient Mariner.” He grinned. “I think this is genuine. Right. We’ll go with it!”

  Striding into the Briefing Room, Brigadier Newton launched straight into her brief. “Our fleet is assembling outside the Peiho system, two hours from us in a hyperjump. They will move closer once we have confirmation the Confederation Fleet is approaching. Admiral Enescu intends to drop out right behind them to engage them before they can deploy. Our forces will be boosted by additional troops — and the Board hopes that a victory for our ships will be sufficient to get the WTO and Confederation to the negotiating table.”

  The Colonel grimaced. “As long as everything goes to plan. Our runaways seem to have gone to ground, and the Rotties with them. Strange, there have been almost no sightings of the Rotties for a week now — and those we have seen have been walking alone or in small groups heading away from this area.”

  “Keep monitoring them. We’ll deal with them once our people have sorted out the Fleet,” the Brigadier said. “Our immediate task is to provide a surface base for the interceptors that will be landing here in four days. They will need additional fuel cells and charger units for the interceptors’ weapons. That will be your task to sort out, Major.”

  “I’ll get onto it, but we don’t have the capacity. Our own strike force is pushed for space, and there are only twenty-five of them. How many are we expecting?”

  “Here is the signal. Says one hundred and twenty to be landed and prepared for air defence.”

  “That’s pushing beyond the limit. I’ll have to enlarge the landing area and put in a dispersal system. I’ll need earthmovers and clearance to switch production to interlock platforms for them to sit on. Three to four days’ work at the least.”

  “Take whatever you need. You’ve got three working days, so you’ll need additional labour forces as well — use the Rates from the prison camp if you have to.”

  “I’ll need to,” the Major acknowledged. “And the sooner I get this started the better. I’ll also have to change the perimeter defences, and that will diminish their effectiveness.”

  “Agreed.” The Brigadier nodded. “We’ll have to accept that the extra troops and fighters will strain it, but they’ll also give us an edge. Admiral Enescu has given her ETA for the interceptors as four days from now. They’ll be delivered by a pair of cruisers. They’ll drop out, launch their payloads and remain in orbit as the bait.” She looked around the table. “They’ll be accompanied by four landing barges carrying the troops to boost our garrison. I propose to station them at the Sinclair Base and use them as a mobile force to support us if we’re attacked.”

  “That doesn’t give us a lot of time to prepare,” the Colonel remarked. “At least at Sinclair we have the accommodation to house them. Since we moved the officer prisoners from there, our bandits haven’t gone back to attack it. Hopefully, they’ll see it as being only lightly defended and have a go at it if we are busy. They’ll get a nasty surprise if they do.”

  “Harry,” Ferghal interrupted his friend as he discussed their plans with several pack leaders. “The enemy is to be reinforced in preparation for our Fleet’s arrival. The Brigadier has received orders from her Admiral.”

  “Then it is as well we have warning of this.”

  A senior Canid spoke. “We must penetrate their barriers and prevent this.”

  “There will be an opportunity.” Ferghal glanced at Harry. “If you agree, of course. They are enlarging the landing field, and the defences must be moved. It will give the chance to place some of our devices inside their field and perhaps some of your people too.”

  “An excellent suggestion,” said Harry, and the Canids signalled agreement. An hour later, the group parted to consider their options.

  To Rasmus, Harry said, “I have learned they are preparing the Base they name Sinclair to receive the additional troops they expect. We cannot engage the principal base and that one at the same time, and we run the risk of being caught between the two no matter which one we attack. On top of that, I’m worried about the presence of the additional interceptors. With so many on hand they will make our plans extremely difficult to execute.”

  “Unless you can prevent them from becoming airborne in the first place,” said Rasmus.

  “And how would we be doing that?” Ferghal asked, lapsing into his Irish lilt, never far from the surface, but always more pronounced when he was under pressure. “Sure and they would be aloft within minutes of our striking — unless they be very tardy in their response.”

  “It’s true,” Rasmus replied. “But it doesn’t require a great deal of damage to disable these atmospheric craft. The best time to strike at them is as soon as they land and are occupied with maintenance and refuelling. Each craft must be recharged and checked before it can fly again.” Spreading his arms in a characteristic gesture, as if he were pronouncing a blessing on them all, he smiled. “So my friends, if you strike as soon as they are all on the ground and being serviced, you may remove their advantage.” He grinned at the surprised expressions of the group. “See, sometimes modern knowledge is useful — even when you plan an old-fashioned war.”

  Ferghal responded first. “Of course! Atmospheric entry requires an enormous expenditure of power, so their fuel cells will be drained, and the stress of entry, even with the shielding, requires a full inspection before flying again. Even the barges and launches cannot immediately take off again. It is why we always carry Engineer Rates on them.” Ferghal grinned. “You’re a sly one, Rasmus, that you are, and no mistake about it.”

  The chaos of the construction work on the Consortium Base enabled them to slip in with their devices and plant them undetected. For this, the Canids used their screening cloaks. As agreed, some took up positions inside the landing area perimeter.

  The completion of the extensions saw their plan for disrupting the grounded aerial craft in place.

  “We’re ready, Harry. Now it is in the hands of Fate,” Ferghal reported.

  “Well done, my friend.” Harry pulled on his jacket and adjusted the equipment harness worn over it. “It is time. Their reinforcements will arrive in si
x hours according to their signals. Let us take up our positions. That will give us a brief period to rest before it begins.”

  “My team are ready. We will be in position within the hour.” Ferghal rose to join his batteries and arrange their transport.

  “Good. Mr. Winstanley, have the others move out immediately, if you please.” Harry hefted his own packs and acknowledged the response of their Canid coordinator. “Ready, CO Hodges?”

  “All set, sir. Even got some spare flags in case I wear these ones out!”

  Harry laughed as he turned to go. “I shall bear that in mind.”

  Outside he addressed all the Warrant Officers tasked with leading groups. “Are all your targets clear? Good. Then let us get into place. I have sent Leading Rate Aiken and Pack Leader Namreh to the pass in the mountains between the second base and this one. They are to plant the land mines and delay any effort at relief or support.”

  Ferghal followed his friend. “A good move. It will not be difficult to hold that.” The surface route between the two depended on the availability of a single pass through a jagged mountain range. A relatively small party could hold it and prevent any passage through it.

  Concealed beneath a rocky outcrop, Harry surveyed the landing field. Overhead a steady stream of interceptor craft howled in to land on the prepared pads on the plain below them. Through his connection to the Provider, he knew Ferghal was ready with his rockets and mortars. The Canid pack leaders and their people were also in place for their part in the strike. Cautiously he scanned the area before him, looking for the small tell-tale marks to indicate the positions of his teams.

  To Maddie Hodges, he said, “We will stir the hornet’s nest here today — enough, I hope, to disable this armada sufficiently for our people to land.”

  “You’re right there, sir,” Maddie replied. “Just wish I was with the team setting off the fireworks. I’ve a few scores to settle down there.” She hesitated. “Pardon my asking, sir, but how sure are we the Fleet will be here today?”

  Harry stared at the view, listening to an exchange through the hypercom emitter. Then he grinned. “I’m very sure. In fact, from the signals they’re exchanging, within the hour. They are in the system and are closing on the planet Lycania. We may even see some of the engagement from here.” He paused as the howl of engines subsided. “It is time to strike! That is their last interceptor just disembarking its pilot, and by the looks of the thing, they have just learned of the Fleet’s arrival. Make the signal to attack, if you please!”

  Maddie stood and raised her flags, watching for the acknowledgement from the eight positions below and on either side, and then, in several swift movements, she sent the numeral seventy-nine followed by “The Fleet is here.” She dived into cover as the world erupted. Harry’s signal meant “Engage the enemy,” and the added spur of knowing that their own were about to arrive lent a determination to the attackers.

  Mortars, rocket bombs and mines burst among the maintenance crews running for cover in a tangled mass of confusion and panic. From his vantage point, Harry could see activity, which assured him his Canid friends were in position and doing their part. Three unmanned transports advanced into the perimeter screen and immediately attracted the attention of the outer projectors. Several beams hit the first vehicle, but it continued moving, even as it burned, the nearest turrets tracking the blazing carrier. Then it detonated spectacularly, destroying the closest turrets while the second vehicle ploughed on, slightly off course, into the second tier of defences. Like its leader, it was soon ablaze, and so was the third, but their detonation had the desired effect, and Harry’s “Bombardiers” were able to penetrate the perimeter.

  A direct hit on an interceptor ruptured its fuel cells and scattered debris among several other craft. Men fell under the hail of shrapnel, and this damaged interceptors as well. Several more joined the first in exploding violently, and even those furthest from the assaulting force suffered.

  The initial chaos was rapidly replaced by a determined response. Harry’s people came under furious fire from ground troops. Several interceptors lifted off and targeted the attackers. Harry realised that the fight was about to become very bloody indeed. He managed to say a quick prayer for all those who would fall or be injured in the fight, and then he focused on his task.

  “Incoming strike!” Ferghal yelled above the din of the mortars firing as fast as their crews could load. “Bearing left, closing — fire a barrage commencing — now!” Errol Hill and his team changed the bearing of their rocket tubes and ignited the fuses, the first of the big aerial rockets hurling itself from the tube with a vicious hiss and roar as it gathered speed. Already one of the Canid batteries was sending its missiles aloft as another flight attempted to target them. Ferghal watched as the aircraft sheared away trailing smoke and shedding parts as the barrage intensified.

  The approaching interceptor pilot saw the trail of smoke as the first rocket soared toward him, though it appeared to be well clear. More rockets soared into his path, and he made the fatal mistake of ignoring them. One of the new arrivals, he had not been warned of this archaic device or of the effect it had on an airframe if it got too close.

  Six burst above, below and in front of his speeding interceptor. His canopy shattered, and he lost control as several vital stabilisers were shredded. He had time to angrily demand of no one in particular, “What the hell?” before his speeding craft slammed into the ground in a great burst of flame and shattered airframe.

  His wingman had just enough time to register the effect on his leader before he desperately sheered away as more of the deadly devices soared around him. He evaded the worst of the damage and managed to keep his craft aloft long enough to attempt an emergency landing some distance beyond Harry’s command post.

  Other pilots found themselves facing a similar barrage as they attempted to target the mortar posts, one suffering the fate of having a rocket penetrate the thin skin and detonate inside it. The surviving pilots found themselves faced by a sky filled with lethal debris as they attempted to target the concealed assailants.

  “I got nothing on my scanners,” a frustrated pilot snarled. “All I can see is smoke trails, and I can’t get a weapons lock on those. Nothing shows on the ground either. What the hell is this?”

  Seconds later his speeding craft was rocked by several near bursts, and to his fury, his cockpit alarms sounded a major malfunction. He did the only thing left to him; he tried to aim the interceptor at a position the rockets seemed to be coming from, and ejected from his craft. Unfortunately, that sent the dying craft into a steep dive before it crashed almost on top of his forces.

  From his position, Harry saw the Consortium’s ground forces grouping for an assault on one of his positions. To Maddie he ordered, “Send a message to Mr. Winstanley — Enemy regrouping to your right — number twenty-three.”

  Maddie leapt into action then ducked down again after noting the acknowledgement. “Sent, sir. They’ve seen them, and it looks like they’re ready for them.”

  “Good.” Harry was concentrating on his link to their host mind. “I have asked Pack Leader Rongar to send some of his force to assist them. Now, send a message to Mr. O’Connor — number eight, if you please.”

  Ferghal looked up as the signalman called, “From CO, sir. Number eight!”

  “Good.” To his team he called, “Shift to our forward position mortar by mortar, Warrant! I want you to target their inner defence line. Rocket battery, relocate on their wings, half battery load, and commence firing contact bursts.”

  It was not going so well for all of the Hellions. On two of their positions, Harry’s teams were taking heavy casualties, and the remaining members of the key team had been forced to withdraw, compromising his plan to release the officer prisoners. From his vantage point Harry watched in frustration as a team led by one of his recently released Warrant Officers was driven back by a determined defence and surrounded. “Signal Sergeant Oribi —
number thirty-six — Enemy to your right.”

  Signals flashed back and forth as Harry tried to extricate some of those at risk and bring up support in other areas. He felt a surge of concern as he saw the high-level contrails of a large number of craft entering the atmosphere and descending. At a distance, there was no way of knowing if they were friend or foe. He could make out that there were a lot of small craft, but these seemed to be escorting a number of very large landing barges.

  “We seem to have others about to join us,” Harry said to Maddie, “but I know not if they are our friends. Send this message — Prepare to withdraw. New forces descending toward us.”

  Maddie frowned. “Pardon me, sir, but that’s a bit of a long message, isn’t it? Is there a corresponding number?”

  Harry grinned. “I’m afraid you will have to spell it out, ComOp Hodges. I devised no number for this eventuality.”

  “If you say so, sir.” She returned the grin. “I hope the other buggers on this detail can read it properly is all.”

  Harry smiled again. “Yes, that might be a challenge for some of them, but I have full faith in your ability to send the message clearly.” While she flagged the message, Harry used his link to access the Consortium hypercoms in the hope of discovering whose forces were coming on the scene. It proved frustratingly difficult, but he did manage to pick up a signal going out and calling for assistance. That was confirmation enough for him; the descending barges had to be from the Fleet. A surge of jubilation coursed through him, and he felt more hopeful than he had in a very long time.

  “I am certain they are ours, Maddie. Signal number twelve to all our teams, and follow it with Render all assistance.”